


El Ángel - Demolition Lovers

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Series: El Ángel - Demolition Lovers - 3 Languages [1]
Category: El Angel (Movies), L'angelo del crimine (Movies)
Genre: Also Brokeback Mountain inspired, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Argentina, Argentinian Character, Arousal, Attraction, Bad Boys, Barebacking, Based on El Ángel (Movie), Based on a My Chemical Romance Song, Based on a True Story, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys Will Be Boys, Breeding, Brokeback Mountain References, Buenos Aires, Car Chases, Chino Darín, Codependency, Come Marking, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Crimes & Criminals, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Demolition Lovers, El Ángel, El Ángel película, Ending Fix, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings Realization, Finger Sucking, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, France (Country), Inspired by Real Events, Kissing, Longing, Lorenzo Ferro, Lyon - Freeform, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, My Chemical Romance References, Naked Cuddling, Obsession, Oral Sex, Parasitic Love, Partners in Crime, Partners to Lovers, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon Fix-It, Robbery, Running Away, Running from the law, Seduction, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Dancing, Smut, Teasing, Theft, Thief, Translation Available, Translations in Spanish and Italian available in a few days, World Travel, based on a movie, blowjob, hideaway, l'angelo del crimine, the 70s, uncut cock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Craving Carlos meant drowning. Every. Single. Time.Desiring him meant drowning and then dying. Until finally the gift of his touch meant rebirth.  Ramón said nothing and Carlos just studied him, head tilted. An amused pout his unspoken invitation._Based on a true story. Buenos Aires, 1970s.Carlos. The face of an angel whom no one could resist. He got everything he wanted... including Ramón. Together they formed a dangerously charming duo. They embarked on a journey of theft and lies, quickly killing becoming their way of communicating.But not the only way. Quiet and secrecy were their best languages. No dissonant expressions, no uncomfortable small talk. Just...silence. Even sex didn't require words, not when they knew one another so well all it took was one glance.
Relationships: Carlitos/Ramon, Carlos Puch/Ramón Peralta, Carlos Robledo Puch/Ramón Peralta, Carlos/Ramón
Series: El Ángel - Demolition Lovers - 3 Languages [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785490
Comments: 41
Kudos: 75





	1. Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashkore_varg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkore_varg/gifts), [harscrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harscrow/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [El Ángel - Demolition Lovers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24696976) by [RavenAurelieChoiseau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau)



> I have dreamed of writing this fix-it fic for two years. I saw this movie on a plane, watched it three times in a row. Then when I got home I bought it.  
> It has been a true labor of love and I'm proud to present it to you here. 
> 
> Professional translations in both Spanish and Italian are mere days away. So if you're interested in those please stay tuned, I'll be posting them as well.  
> I've imbedded a couple pictures at the end of chapter 1 and another at the end of chapter 2 and 3.  
> A wonderful little nugget is this video that put together their best moments by Crack Trash this is their channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-1sbSlLbEwojBEr1bOs7EA I thank them for allowing me to post the links as I got really inspired also watching this vid.  
> If you've never seen the film and would like a quick cheat sheet- the video is subtitled in English. But I would seriously encourage you to see the movie. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zT7rhK6l-7Q&lc=UgwLWjkCzm9OybeaJrd4AaABAg.98bGJFzWDYy99S6JbCR2F

**Part One – Silence  
  
 _Hand in mine, into your icy blues  
And then I’d say to you we could take to the highway  
With this trunk of ammunition too  
I’d end my days with you in a hail of bullets…  
  
_**

Carlos approached Ramón in silence, the air hanging expectant.  
Measuring the distance between intent and action, jolts of sensation rippled over his skin as Carlos’ hungry gaze sailed over his taut frame.  
The simper teasing his partner’s impossibly plump lips was a vow to yet more unspoken promise.  
  
Tilting his shoulders one way and his hips the other, Carlos advanced. When he swivelled right, Ramón went left.  
And so they danced, even though no music played. Mirroring each other as they inched closer, the broken glass and crumbled cement crunching beneath their soles their only accompaniment.   
They stopped when the tips of their scuffed shoes touched.  
  
Ramón clenched his shaky hands briefly, then released. He wanted to reach out, draw Carlos to him… he played air piano before letting his wiry arms drop limp to his sides.  
  
The other was studying his reactions, head tilted and mouth pert in an amused pout.  
Just like he’d memorized this place… like he’d scanned the peeling cornflower wallpaper and the rotting corners in the kitchen of this godforsaken house they now squatted in, Carlos wanted to unravel Ramón’s secrets. Commit to memory every room in Ramón’s mansion.  
Strip him naked.  
Literally and figuratively.  
 _Had this not been the plan all along?_

Carlos slid his unwavering hands over Ramón’s leather jacket. A glide down his broad back increased in pressure before landing on the curve of his perfect buttocks. They were so muscular he thought if he flicked his ass, it would ring like a bell.  
Instead he gripped it, Ramon’s heavy-lidded eyes fluttering shut when their bellies flattened against one another.  
Their turgid sexes rubbing together sent the pit of Carlos’ stomach into a wild swirl.  
 _  
Gasoline. These were previously covered in gasoline. Now they’re kneading Ramón’s flesh.  
_  
Ramón thrust his chest out, lungs trapping the air he’d just inhaled. When Ramón got like this… when the scream at the back of his throat begged for release and he started bargaining with every deity he didn’t even believe in to always keep Carlos near… he gulped for air.  
  
Craving Carlos meant drowning.  
Every. Single. Time.  
Desiring him meant drowning and then dying. Until finally the gift of his touch meant rebirth.  
  
Fingers tingling with the need to caress him, Ramón barely resisted an assault.  
Instead, he raised his chin to expose his neck- an offering.  
 _Take me. Please._  
  
There was nothing in the dust-speckled air between them but...silence. The intensity of Ramón’s moss eyes lit up Carlos’ blood much like the propellant had that fucking car.  
He could barely reason.  
Carlos shivered under their spell, the sensation of every hair prickling on his body.  
Ramón’s groin tightened at the rush of seeing his lover nearly ready to surrender. He leaned in, his little jutting nose trailing down the wings of his cheeks.  
 _Be mine._

And then the silence.

 _What a beautiful melody it could be.  
Beautiful notes.  
Beautiful order.  
Beautiful synchrony of nothing but stifled breaths and quelled need in this their miserable, insignificant fucking life. _  
  
A slow smile built wickedly on Ramón’s handsome face. Neither dared utter even a whisper.  
Carlos felt that this was the easiest, though most frustrating way to communicate with him. Deliberately averting his gaze. Moving his head slightly as though attempting to avoid some dazzling light… Ramón’s inner light.  
Just feeling his lover’s presence, calculating his breathing pattern, the sudden, searing contact of his flesh… it was enough.  
How surprising, the wealth of information Carlos could gather while _not listening_ and _not looking_.

_Those goddamn reflective eyes. Sometimes warm like jade stones fallen into a brook, glimmering. Other times as cold and biting as winter frost on moss._

Yes, words were unnecessary. What good was locution when what was happening between them could never be adequately explained?

Carlos’ steel grey t-shirt was barely skimming Ramón, his pelvis gyrating as his back arched. Fingers digging into his forearms for balance, Carlos moved against him. Forwards and into where the V of their thighs joined.  
Up and out in smooth, languid half- moon motions.  
What a fucking tease.  
This scenario became more and more frequent between them, as they had slowly established how their partners-in-crime-turned-lovers relationship would work.

 _Quiet and secrecy were their best languages. No dissonant expressions, no uncomfortable small talk. Just...silence.  
_ _One can live in reticence. Humans endured before words existed._

This strange…. _thing_ they had together; it was obvious they were criminal partners, but anyone observing from without would have to be blind not to notice that that was not the only intimacy they shared.  
 _In fact, how_ _many criminals partook of any type_ _at all?  
  
_ Carlos understood this and wielded it like the most powerful of weapons. Every time he consciously did this, he felt his heart spinning desperately and his limbs felt numb.  
As if bringing more tension to Ramón wasn’t enough, he dragged out of him _kicking and screaming_ the heady sensation of _having_ to be near. Of _needing_ to be within scent’s reach of each other’s bodies.

Just like now. Perhaps even worse now. Worse than ever before.   
As soon as Ramón’s reaching fingers slid through Carlos’ soft curls, he felt at home.  
 _Why do I keep doing this?_ _Why can’t I stop?  
I wish I knew how to quit you._

Carlos’ sharp intake of breath shook his chest. A bolt of desire spiked heat through his core, his torso leaning into Ramón’s.  
 _Why do I keep doing this? Why can’t I stop?  
I’ll never be able to quit him. _  
_  
  
The men led a life based on a series of illogical, unbalanced decisions that no sane person would ever dream of making. Yet so mindlessly and effortlessly they fell into the rhythm.  
So mindlessly and effortlessly they fell for one another.  
A part of it all was _this…_ whatever _this_ was between them also _fueled them_.  
  
Carlos knew that their “tiny vice” had no real impact on their plans. So why not do it?!  
Wasn’t it a way to grow more attached? Achieve such understanding that a mere twitch to the lip revealed volumes? What was that phrase… _thick as thieves_?  
  
The only person that understood the beauty of Carlos’ impulsiveness was Ramón. The only person who understood Ramón’s need for rebellion was Carlos.  
This parasitic, co-dependent power play they engaged in… only they could have accepted it.  
Anyone else would have condemned such behaviour. 

_To be at the mercy of someone else’s feelings is always the wrong decision. Inevitably, it’s a fucking crash and burn.  
__

Ramon’s chest rose and fell. Carlos finally let his cheek rest against his pectorals. A whisper-light kiss to Carlos’ crown preceded a brush of hand across his jaw.

 _Why can’t I stop?  
_ _Why doesn’t he stop?  
_ _I wish I knew how to quit him._

Clouds lit from below, picking up the colours of the dying sky which lent to the quiet atmosphere within the four walls that served as their haven.  
Twilight fell and dappled the darkened corners of the dank room. It embraced them in a shameless monotone.

What an awful place this was.  
 _People always pictured moments like these in beautiful, softly-lit places. With ornaments perhaps.  
_ There was nothing in this room worth keeping. 

_With exotic fragrances wafting in the air.  
_ The smell in here was rife with mold and regret. 

_People fell in love and had babies.  
_ We’d just set a car on fire. 

_Most people had decent paying jobs. Families. Paid taxes.  
_ We were thieves. Robbers. Criminals.  
  
 _Most people had morals.  
_ We killed.

Carlos put his plump, rose-bloom mouth to Ramón’s chest line, feeling the rough cotton of his ragged cobalt shirt against his thirsty lips.  
Usually most of these interactions ended here.  
Usually.  
Other times they fell on each other like rabid dogs.  
  
It was tacit consent. These moments _… their little vice_ … it had to occur, from time to time. Neither could have stopped it from happening even if they tried.

_But today?  
Today was different. A sensation they hadn’t felt before crept over them._

What was this slow and tortuous tango they were partaking in? They’d normally be writhing on one another by now and yet here they were…  
Carlos shivered. Ramón’s long splayed fingers on his bare skin were so warm and needy, making his face flush with scarlet heat at every graze.  
  
Softness. It was such a strange reaction, a rarity for them, an out-of-place characteristic to their mating ritual.

Ramón sighed, shifting his olive gaze to blink up at the ceiling.  
 _He is as guilty as I am. His touch is as temperate as mine. How do we run hot while being accomplices in a murder?  
Shouldn’t guilt feel cold? What does remorse feel like on one’s skin?  
_

Sensing him tense, the dull throbbing in his groin increasing to the same beat as the drums pounding between his ears…Carlos looked up, and his sky-kissed eyes finally met Ramón’s.  
 _Stop.  
Please.  
Please… don’t stop.  
_

Ramón softly and tenderly moved his thumb under Carlos’ chin, tilting it towards his own slick mouth.  
 _I wish I knew how to quit you.  
_ _  
  
The gesture quickly turned into a desperate kiss. His lips, thick and fierce and aggressive, devoured Carlos'.  
The man succumbed completely to his embrace. Ramón’s curled digits fisted into Carlos’ t-shirt, their desire winning over the last of their decency.   
Everything in the man's gaze screamed “ravage me!” so he took the initiative… tugging on the collar until he ripped the shirt off.  
  
Carlos grunted, lamenting the immediate lack of touch, enticed by every twitch of Ramón’s muscles.  
His skinny frame stopped the trail of the last moments of light that the dusk was offering them. The shade kissed him in all the right places, his flesh tensing and relaxing to a time only their desire dictated.  
Carlos looked at him, yearning for his addictive attentions, and Ramón understood and obeyed.  
Their own language made once more of silence.  
 _Their silence.  
  
_ Ramón removed his hands briefly to work his own clothes, taking off his blue t-shirt and throwing it to the ground.   
He had a magnificent body, a wide chest, firm stomach. The trail of black hair running under his belly button led Carlos’ eyes to focus where they disappeared.  
Returning to him, a hold on his slim hips, Ramón slid one hand down Carlos’ torso to the pulsing swell. Lightly arching up into the touch, Carlos’ flesh seared under Ramón’s kisses as he drew a pattern there with his thirsty lips.  
Carlos exhaled with a tremble to his limbs and a flutter to his long, wet lashes.

_I hate this. I hate him. But I don’t want him to stop._

Ramón’s skilled hands drew circles and caresses all over him, arousing him to the point of torture. His muscular shoulders stretched with every movement - a blistering tongue mapping a circle into the smooth, briny skin below Carlos’ sheathed sex.  
Going lower. And lower.  
 _I hate him. And I...can’t stop looking at him. Look at how beautiful he is teasing me over my pants.  
I don’t want him to stop touching me.  
_

Carlos sucked up his plump bottom lip, suppressing a moan.  
 _No, he’s not gonna hear me beg. I can’t be this weak._

Ramón’s roving mouth found his right nipple, sucking into the nub. He didn’t save any softness for him in this foreplay. This was not the moment to have it.

As much as Carlos didn’t like to admit it, he fucking loved this. Wanted more, more than probably Ramón could give right now.   
_Why do I like him this much?  
  
_ Ramón checked on Carlos’ flustered, embarrassed, almost angry face, and continued. This time, his hands grabbed the zip of his strained jeans.  
  
 _He still knows we can do this without talking.  
_ _He likes the silence as much as me.  
  
_ Carlos closed his eyes when the denim left his legs exposed to the cold. When he opened them again, he was completely naked.  
Ramón, not yet.

_I’m at his complete mercy. Son of a bitch. I hate him. And I don’t want him to stop.  
_

Ramón fisted his thick cock and started stroking it with calculated pressure. His right hand jerked him as the left softly caressed his inner thigh and balls.  
The sensuous touch of his fingers sent pleasure ricocheting through his lover.  
Carlos was so fucking beautiful when he wanted to come.  
  
The first wave of heat surged through Ramón’s body. Goddamn him… goddamn him and the things he did to him without even having grazed him.  
 _Why do I keep doing this?_ _Why can’t I stop?  
I wish I knew how to quit you.  
  
_Carlos shivered, flustered, and bunching both hands into the bedding below, he rested his head on the pillow, looking at the window. Deliberately not facing Ramón _._

 _He’s not gonna make me moan._ _I can’t be this weak_.  
  
A few crickets outside competed with their silence.  
 _He’s not gonna make me beg for it. He’s not…_

His eyes fluttered as he fell. Carlos exhaled into a deep groan. Fuck it.  
Next came a whimper, quite loud, at the same moment he felt Ramón’s hot mouth swallow the shaft of his cock, engulfing it like an absolute degenerate.

_He’s not gonna stop. I don’t want him to stop.  
_

Carlos opened one eye when the cold air hit his crown. What the fuck... 

Ramón was grinning, staring at him with a libidinous twinkle to his gaze. He was standing at the end of the bed, eyes locked with Carlos’ as he removed his trousers and underwear.  
His enormous manhood popped to life, masterfully rising between his thighs. Each time seeing it was for Carlos like the first.  
Magnificent. Erect and solid, showing twitching veins.  
  
Ramón made a gesture with his tongue, clicking it, as if he was trying to get his dry mouth a little bit wetter. As he climbed onto the mattress, it dipping under both their weights, the unspoken message clear.  
 _I know what you’re thinking. And I also know that you want this as much as me. I know that you’ll scream my fucking name once I’m inside you like you always do, Carlitos._

Ramón never uttered words during the whole time he was mercilessly taking him. They spoke only in the creak of the springs below, in their panting and gasping… in the low grumbles of the grunts and moans escaping them.  
  
His splayed hands glided over Carlos’ haunches, one kneading into the wet, taut muscle, the other landing firmly on his ass cheek, penetrating him with passionate desperation.  
Their lovemaking was slippery and dripping, clinging, chasing something neither wanted to catch. Their bodies held fast, soggy with need.

It wasn’t aggressive, this sex. But it was also not sweet, nor soft, nor endearing. Something fueled by lust but with a contained almost masochist edge to the movements.

 _Fuck, how hard he makes me!  
_ Carlos couldn’t stop thinking of how his lovers chest and thighs were going to be stained with his cum. How Ramón, in kind, was going to fill him up with his spend. _  
_

Ramón bucked up into him, twisting his hip, craving more depth. One of his hands, damp with perspiration, caressed his scalp, looping two fingers into his silky curls.  
Jesus he needed him… wanted him. Wanted to get inside him in every sense. _Into his cells._  
  
Carlos nodded against him, sucking in Ramón's thumb, licking, inhaling two more fingers like they were candies. He used them like he used Ramón's cock. Rolling his tongue over them, hollowing out his cheeks, letting the saliva coat his chin.   
  
It was hard for Ramón not to want to fuck his mouth, too. But he had one cock and right then the delicious sensation of being tunneled within him was all he could focus on.   
Picking up on the yearning, Carlos sank down further until he more than hilted, Ramón’s hands spreading his cheeks to accommodate the girth.

A large bead of sweat rolled down the middle of Carlos’ back. The thrusts came in time to his strokes, cleaving together in an almost sinful rhythm. Pulling the foreskin back he spread the oozing pre-come over the head, pressing into the slit with a hiss.   
  
Breathing intensifying, laboured and loud... hot air blew through their noses as their mouths devoured each other.  
Still not a word uttered, their bodies spoke for them. Carlos seeking relief for his fevered, needy sex and Ramón fucking him blind, the urgency, the starvation his guide through these darklands.  
  
Neither announced their imminent release. Carlos cried Ramón’s name at his climax, just like he said he would.  
“Ramón, Ramón! Fuck!”  
His orgasm fountained all over their slick chests, dripping onto their laps… and Ramón bit gently into the place where Carlos’ shoulder met his neck.  
  
“Carlitos…” It sounded like a prayer. "Carlitos, Carlitos..."   
  
_He’s coming so much. I can feel it splashing my insides. Jesus!_ Carlos came a second, unexpected time. This spurt thinner and less intense.   
  
Ramón, exhausted and panting, claimed Carlos. Beckoned him against him, a wrecked mess in his arms as the adrenaline and blissfulness washed away from their bodies.   
  
The crickets suddenly seemed louder. Ramón’s left arm dragged Carlos to his chest when their breathing calmed, into the hollow created by his slumped form, spooning him from behind. Pretending they weren’t just doing what they’d done… again.

_Classic of him to want to cuddle._

Carlos snuggled in willingly. Decided it was good that in this position they couldn’t look at each other, because if he had to lose himself in those goddamn eyes of his for any longer tonight, he’d fucking break.  
He’d break because it was getting to the point where he didn’t know what living was without him.  
  
Carlos stared at the shitty wooden chair that was at the foot of the bed, letting the realization sink in that he was in love. _  
There’s still cum inside me. His cum. My cum is still on him.  
I’m his and he’s mine.  
  
_Ramón laced their fingers together, pecking a kiss onto the top of his milky shoulder. He stifled the barrage of words that had remained unsaid. He stifled the urge to tell him how a moment without him was like being thrown into the ocean and left to fucking drown.  
Carlos was like air to him.  
 _I wish I knew how to quit you._  
  
They fell asleep, sharing their body warmth. Sharing the same breathing space. Sharing a twin bed in an abandoned house outside of Buenos Aires.  
  
Both were sure this wouldn’t be the last time their souls would fight to be together.


	2. Lyon- The Fugue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now fugitives, Carlos and Ramón escape to Lyon, France.

**Part Two  
  
 _I would drive on to the end with you  
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full  
And I feel like there’s nothing left to do  
But prove myself to you and we’ll keep it running_**

The sun rose over the Rhône River. The cool, crisp smell of night gave way to sun-warmed earth, the flowers opening around them, releasing their floral sweetness. It was brisk for an early spring morning.  
The men stood at the Bridge of the Guillotière. It was very early, around 6 am, and you couldn’t see more than a handful of people about.  
Some walked, others flitted by on their bicycles.  
Ramón and Carlos hunched on the railing, heads dangling over the edge of the river. They avoided looking directly at each other, as they usually did when they were sharing a quiet moment together.  
  
Ramon observed a small boat float by, the break of the motor refracting the light caught by the blue waters, which shimmered as they picked up the hues of morning.  
The smell of freshly baked bread and croissants from the nearby shops mixed with the slight breeze that caressed the river.  
Carlos’ stomach growled.  
  
Lyon was a beautiful and ancient city. It didn’t have as many attractions as say… Paris, so it was a perfect place to escape for a bit and remain relatively unnoticed.  
Their presence hadn’t raised any eyebrows thus far.  
  
Ramón poured himself into dark jeans earlier that morning, with his leather jacket hugging his torso. Underneath, a burgundy shirt open at the collar revealed a creamy neck, the crest of a dark crimson bruise peeking from above the collarbone. A gift from the previous night’s… festivities.  
  
Carlos was even less conspicuous, his tumbled tendrils curling on his forehead. He’d bought himself another set of clothes- a red shirt matching the cerise of his lips and new umber-coloured slacks.  
Most of his face was covered, his fair hair blowing into disarray by the breeze which had picked up.

Ramón clicked his lighter shut- still the zippo Carlos had given him what seemed like a lifetime ago- and it locked with a metallic clang.  
A cigarette dangled from bruised lips. Only an hour earlier they had been wrapped around Carlos’ cock.  
Ramón couldn’t give a fuck about covering his face.

“You really should stop being paranoid at this point” - said the darker man, before puckering his mouth to suck in a drag.  
A faint saltiness tinged the smoke billowing in front of him. It mingled with the menthol and tobacco on his tongue.  
Carlos had come a lot. Being one to swallow, (for some reason it always felt like the sperm got stuck in his teeth if he spit), his lover’s taste had remained.  
  
“I am _not_ being paranoid. I’m meticulously aware of our situation.” Threading his hand through the mop of his curls, he tried to hide the tension crinkling his eyes.

“That’s just a fancy way to say ‘paranoid’, dumbass.” Ramón was on edge. He’d experienced what could only have been called an “unsatisfying orgasm” and now he was peeved with his lover.  
Carlos could have at least provided him with the same amount of attention. Instead, he’d cheated. He did that one thing that made Ramón spill immediately just because he wasn’t in the mood to pleasure him properly.  
How fucking selfish.

“And _I’m_ supposed to be the impulsive one?” scoffed Carlos. “Fucking pot calling the kettle black.”  
  
Ramón flicked the tip of his cigarette and some ash scattered below.  
This is why they avoided speaking most of the time. This.  
They were good at three things: crime, silence, and fucking.  
  
“According to the police, yes. But what can you expect of the Argentinian police? They wouldn’t know their asses from a hole in the ground. _Which works in our favor, sweetheart._ ”

Carlos let out a chest-deflating sigh. He hated to admit that Ramón, at times, was right. He also didn’t let the pet name register because deep down he knew that’s not how his lover had intended it to come out.  
Ramón was still pissed at him for making him come too quickly.  
  
“I saw you stealing the alms from the Trinity Chapel.”

Ramón turned on his heel, one elbow perched on the railing. Carlos didn’t look over, but those beautiful green eyes were boring into him, he could tell. Powerful, with an edge of tenderness.   
  
Carlos was endearing, Ramon thought. Endearing and… annoyingly predictable. Really, he was going to bring this up?  
  
“And also the charity funds of those UNESCO women.” The accusation was punctuation. He let it sit there.  
Ramón passed him the cigarette between two bent fingers, the skin around his beautiful mouth gathering into a scowl. “Yeah, and?”  
  
In reality, Carlos blushed a bit in shame for bringing it up. His voice strained. He didn’t mean to be a dick.  
  
Bringing the stick to his pillow lips… he sampled Ramón on it and stifled a whimper. The paper absorbed a bit of his taste but also his scent, the oils from his fingers seeping in.  
 _Incredible. He makes me fucking horny an hour after I got off just by passing me a smoke._

“So, this is what you call ‘running away’, Ramón? Just doing all the same shit we did back home, just in a place with a better view? Which, by the way, isn’t even brilliant, you’re fucking stealing like a poor street rat.”

“I’m sorry, so I guess we can only plan murders and steal from influential people?” Lips pressing into a white slash, Ramón jerked down a cuff.  
  
“Essentially, we should. That’s the beauty of it. Not taking from the mouths of the poor.”

A smirk creased Carlos’ face. He’d hit a nerve.

“Wait, ‘The beauty of it’ you say?! We do it because we fucking CAN! Nothing else.”  
  
He almost threw the butt back at him, lit end first. Carlos pulled back his shoulders and squinted against the growing sun.  
This was getting tedious.  
  
“But that doesn’t stop us from robbing like ‘street rats’. But I assume you’re one of those people that justifies their behaviours with superior intellectual knowledge.”

Wow. He was pulling out all the stops. That was way too much of a sarcastic compliment, even for Ramón.  
“I don’t have any superior knowledge, Ramón. I just enjoy _real_ challenges. And I have you to blame for that. Remember, I was the innocent kid and you were the son of a thief.”  
  
“Innocent?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “You?! Give me a fucking break! Also, a lot of things fall under the umbrella of ‘real challenges’. You could also play chess if you enjoy real challenges, Carlitos.”  
He was about to call him _mi amor._ Even said sarcastically… he’d never come back from that if he uttered it. Ramón meant to say it a bunch of other times… it was always there behind his teeth- those two words had found a home in his throat months ago.  
  
When Carlos had asked him to run away with him, and Ramón had agreed with no hesitation… that’s when he knew he was gone for him. Pathetic and love struck. Jesus Christ.  
 _I wish I knew how to quit him._

“Maybe. But with what you’re doing, where’s the thrill? No one’s aware of your crimes that way. No real excitement or danger. What little risk there is, it’s not even worth the pay out, how much did you take from the alms box, 40 francs?”

A shaggy dog covered in brown fur barked nearby. Two policemen were already patrolling the area like they did every morning, strolling behind the man who was walking his tail-wagging pet.  
The officers ignored them, passed by as if they weren’t even there.  
That was an art that both men handled very well. With or without camouflage, this was an ability they had learned with time.

“Old habits die hard, Carlos. At least doing these petty crimes helps me think of my father.”

“What does your father have to do with you fucking up our entire plan again? Don’t make me remind you of the last jewelry store we tried to break into.”

“I can’t forget it,” Ramón snapped. This morning he was getting on his last nerve.  
“Considering that it’s the reason why we’re here and especially because you won’t fucking stop throwing it back in my face.”

A few seconds of silence passed, and Ramón snorted. _What a joke._

“What’s so funny?” inquired Carlos. “I’m being extremely serious here.”  
Real concerned marred his angelic features.

“You know what’s fucking funny?” Ramón cocked his head and then wagged his inky curls. “That you’re the one with the heavy weight on your conscience and yet _you_ have the audacity to scold _me_.”

“You’re as guilty as me for those crimes.” Rubbing his brow as if to ward off a headache, Carlos continued. His left hand tugged on the hem of his shirt. “I’m just saying we have to be more careful this time. We work together. You saw everything I did. Agreed to everything. Didn’t bat an eyelash. If I sink, you’ll be sinking with me, _baby._ ”  
  
Ramón blew grey smoke, it twisting from his glistening lips. “We have at least a few months before they can reach us here.”

“ _If_ they do so. You said it yourself, they’re incompetent,” Carlos whispered in pleased excitement. There was so much thrill in getting away with shit.

“How are you so sure they **won’t**? They communicate with the police here, we’ll have to plan on fleeing again.” Ramón shifted his crossed legs. The railing was cold against his clothing, sending a shiver through him.  
Though the season was temperate during the day, the nights and early hours still favored fresher temperatures.  
  
Carlos rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands inside his pockets. Ramón really needed to decide which version he was sticking to. Were the Argentinian police stupid or not?!  
  
A few kids passed by, dressed with grey and blue checkered uniforms, probably going to some fancy private school.

“It’s like talking to a wall with you.”

Ramón threw him a knowing smile. In his pants he was already half-hard. Arguing with him was stimulating in more ways than one. “Luckily, you really like fucking this wall.”

“You wish I did.”   
  
Carlos got it. Saw the sparkle in his gaze. They were going back to the safe house, right after Ramón picked a pocket and they bought some breakfast.  
He’d make Carlos pay for his poor performance this morning. He could already see himself on his knees in an act of contrition.  
He couldn’t wait.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying it. :)


	3. Destination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ride or die. Always together.  
> Carlos and Ramón do one more heist.

**Part Three**   
  
**Until the end of everything**   
**I'm trying I'm trying**   
**To let you know how much you mean**   
**As days fade, and nights grow**   
**And we go cold**

The sound of the police sirens faded away as they turned into a dark alley with their stolen Peugeot 207. Ramón had his Glock G-29 held between his legs, stiff and still hot from being shot. Almost a replacement for his cock.  
Leaning forward on the passenger seat of the car, he surveyed the scene as Carlos furiously maneuvered the steering wheel.  
Midnight was chasing them, along with the Lyon police.

  
“You’re gonna drive me insane if you don’t let me turn back to see if someone else apart from them is following us.”

“Shut up and drive. We’ll look suspicious if we behave like paranoid maniacs all the time.”

Ramón pushed aside all the berating thoughts coming to him. He didn’t want to hurt Carlos’ feelings, even though he was NOT making it easy.  
“Oh, NOW you’re being cautious?!”  
  
Carlos made a violent U-turn. The few cars present avoided them and the drivers cursed in their direction. The box of jewels flew across the backseat and made an awful noise against the closed window. The glass broke a hair.

“Holy fuck, would you put that shit down?! Quickly, for God’s sake!”

Ramón grabbed the wooden box stuffed with pearl necklaces, delicate and small golden rings and earrings, and other trinkets. He threw it aggressively onto the floor of the car, behind Carlos.  
A handful of them got lost in the gaps of the torn fabric. The old, ripped-open back seats clanged at every pot hole.

By the time Ramón climbed back up, from the view out the back window he could tell that Carlos was already far away from the centre of the city and heading directly to the countryside.

“We’ll see what we do once we leave them behind, Ramón,” he studied the rear-view for lights, pupils dilated.

“The old farmhouse. We should use it now.” Tendons standing out in his neck, a visible pulse on his temple, Ramón suddenly felt faint.

“Now?! That shitty place you showed me in pictures?!” Looking up sharply, he glanced at him through the curtain of his loose curls.

“You have a better idea? We have no other choice, Carlos! That’s why I cased the place!”

“Shit, fine! Remind me which way to go at the fork.”  
Five minutes later, there were no red and blue lights visible any longer. Any sound that didn’t belong with them in the car, silence and heavy breathing excluded, had dissipated into the blackness of the night.  
Taking the back roads, they were the only ones rolling out of Lyon.

\-----------------

The abandoned house did not have a fireplace. It was decrepit and forgotten, lost in the middle of a dry grass field, somewhere between the border of France and Germany.  
Pretty much like that abandoned house in Buenos Aires, Carlos thought to himself once inside.  
What a joyful sight of shit yet again. Living in the lap of luxury they were.

The box of jewels was safely stored under a fake wooden plank that Ramón had crafted on the spot. He was bent down, fiddling with the gas lamp now.  
  
“So, this was the best you could find?” admonished Carlos, jaw tense. The adrenalin was starting to taper and the exhaustion and cold was settling into his bones.

“Look…” Ramón cast a murky glance back.  
He looked sorry. He really did. He even lowered his voice a notch, the dark circles under his light eyes deepening to a dark purple. Even in the sombre moonlight he looked wrecked, and Carlos’ face went grim to see him like this.  
  
“It’s either this or a friendly visit to Lyon’s best prison while waiting to get executed for being international criminals. I made an executive decision.”

Carlos sighed, feeling the icy drench of perspiration travel down his spine. Teeth chattering, he sat on the only bed, knees shaking, a leg on either side of the mattress.  
The pads of his fingers tested the blanket, wondering what might be living inside its fibres… if it’d be safe to drape it over his shoulders.

He was freezing.

Silence filled the makeshift bedroom. The one language that came naturally to them.  
  
“You blame me.” Ramón’s words struck Carlos’ body like a punch to the gut.  
  
“No.” That would have been an unnecessary amount of rage, even for him.  
  
“Just leave me, Carlos,” Ramón broke, hiding his face in his palms. “Go. Be free. I’ll take the blame.”  
  
Carlos doubled over, wrung from the inside out at the mere proposition of them no longer being together.  
Eyes dull, not really processing what was going through Ramón’s mind, he felt the tightness of fear close around his chest like an iron band.  
“What the fuck are you on about?”

“Exactly what I said.”   
The pained stare… the emotion-choked voice. What the hell was Ramón thinking of doing?! Carlos blinked back the sudden scalding tears invading his eyes.  
  
Raw hurt glittered in Ramón’s face. He gazed at him point blank in despair.  
“You were a perfectly good thief back in Argentina. If you hadn’t met me, I wouldn’t have fucked up your plans… your life. I wouldn’t be here blurting out words like an idiot in the middle of an abandoned field in France.”

Carlos attempted to move his lips and say something, but only air came out. He was bidding his body to stand, to reach his lover… and felt frozen in place.  
  
This couldn’t have been happening. They couldn’t have been falling apart. Not them. Not now.

 _I thought everything was going to be perfect with you. You fucking suck._ This is what Carlos wanted to scream, but didn’t.  
Carlos didn’t need a mirror to see it etched on his own face. Ramón or not, he would have ended up here, regardless. Maybe not in a fucking farmhouse in France with his lover… but somewhere similar in some mountain hideaway in Cile or God knows where.  
Or in prison.  
Or dead.  
Carlos was a born criminal. Nothing would have changed that.

“We both fucked up. I said this before. We’re in this together.”  
  
Ramón blinked, the swell of need and sadness was beyond tears. Here he was, drowning again.  
He crossed the small space and fell onto him, grabbing the collar of Carlos’ shirt.  
  
Carlos tensed, a more physical reaction than a mental one. He knew what Ramón was doing. Hardening his heart by erecting barriers of anger.

“If you weren’t that perfect psychopath that you are, Carlitos, I would have left this fucked up mess we are so long ago! But no, I can’t leave you. I can’t fucking leave you! I fucking rue the day we met at that shitty high school because I DON’T KNOW HOW TO QUIT YOU!”  
  
There it was… spelled out in Ramón’s twisted face… in the hiccuped breaths making his chest heave.  
  
 _I. Can’t. Leave. You._

  
Fuck!  
Carlos bracketed Ramón’s head, pushing him away but then drawing him back.  
Pushing and then drawing back.  
The urge to leave gnawed at him, but Carlos knew better. He knew there was no escaping Ramón. He was a part of his DNA now.  
 _  
“_ I’m damned to be here with you and your stupid beautiful face,” he was staring at him like a hungry dog, sniffling the desperation away. “I don’t know how to leave you, either, Ramón. You wanna get it through your fucking head, that we’re the same person?!”

Ramón ignored Carlos’ lame and pathetic efforts to push him away, and then unexpectedly he smacked him on his cheek. He didn’t even know why he did it.  
  
“Son of a bitch, how dare you?” -exclaimed Carlos, as he grabbed both his wrists. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”  
It still stung, the welt slightly pink on his skin.

“Carlos” Ramón murmured, “you don’t fucking trust me. I know that. I knew that all this time. In fact, you don’t fucking trust _anyone._ Just do everything by yourself! Son of a fucking bitch, leave me to my own shitty demise.”  
  
As soon as Ramón confessed it, he regretted it. He didn’t mean a word and the terror that Carlos might tell him he’s right and just fucking take off rooted him in his place.  
At the same time, everything was tingling and throbbing. The room spun.

Carlos wrapped his arm around him. Another on his nape. He was close enough that his hot breath tingled Ramón’s lips.  
“Maybe I should. Or maybe you should just show me your real intentions towards me.”

Carlos made a very quick and agile movement, crouched, and grabbed Ramón’s pistol from behind his belt at the small of his back, where he’d always carried it.  
He knew it was loaded. He knew how many bullets were left.

“Do you fucking hate me this much that you don’t want me anymore? Do you?! Well, there you have it. Do it.”

He violently thrusted the weapon into Ramón’s hand. “There. Shoot me. Shoot me and finish your fucking misery. Do it. Because we both know we can’t live without each other.”

Ramón was perplexed, mouth hanging open. He blinked, as if the weight of the Glock weren’t real.  
The adrenaline rushed through him until his mind blurred.  
  
A tremendous pressure invaded his head and drops of cold sweat surfaced on his nape. His fingers surrounded the trigger, and before he knew what the fuck he was doing… he got closer, aiming at Carlos’ chest. His teeth gritted and his breath faltered.

“You’re trying to provoke me. I can see it in your face. You don’t really mean this, do you, fucker? Do you really want me to pull the trigger?”

Ramón took one calculated step closer. His high leather boots dragged against the filthy wooden floor.  
The planks creaked.

_If he shoots me, nobody will find me ever again._

Ramón’s concentration scattered. He focused directly at him, nostrils flared, but what he was seeing was a kaleidoscope of confetti. A movie of all their best moments scrolling by.

_If he shoots me, my legacy will be pathetic._

Carlos’ skin burned. From the intensity of Ramón’s gaze. From the memory of his roving hands.

_If he shoots me, I’ll be nobody._

Everything around them stopped existing as he looked down the barrel of the weapon.

_A commoner._

A click. The weapon wavered, Ramón twisting it left and right.

“Know how much I want to show you you’re the only one, Carlos. There’s ten reasons in this gun and they’re not enough…”

 _Another asshole lost in his misery. I’ll never see his eyes looking at me like this again._ _Jesus Christ look at him, he’s gone for me…_

Ramón sighed and let the weapon drop. Face scrunched up in agony, he raked his hands through his hair.  
“Fuck you!”

 _Then silence_.

They didn’t stop fixating each other. It was as if Ramón was dissecting him.  
 _  
Silence._  
  
Ramón’s arms reached for his lover’s neck. 

_He’s going to fucking strangle me. Watch the life extinguish from my eyes… and I’ll let him. If that’s what he wants, I’ll let him._ _Life without him is death, anyway._

To Carlos’ surprise, Ramón lay his hands on the roundness of his biceps, softly at first. Like placing empty gloves on his flesh, only increasing the pressure until he firmly clasped his forearms  
  
There was silence, and then there wasn’t.

“I hate everything I said. Everything. Every single word. And I fucking hate you.”

Carlos felt his belly quiver. His muscles bunched and flexed. He couldn’t even dare to pronounce a single word.  
From under a fog of nausea and lightheadedness, as if he was about to vomit all over the floor, he licked his papery lips.

“I can’t kill you, Carlitos.” Tears almost of pleasure moistened his vale eyes. A faint light twinkled there, like fireflies on a summer night.  
Discovery.  
Acceptance.  
  
With an even voice, barely above a whisper, he finished. “I can’t fucking kill you because I can’t fathom the thought of another day without seeing your fucking beautiful face smirking back at me.”

And then he pushed him onto the bed, Carlos digging into the bedding, arms spread, like an angel having landed on earth after losing his grace.  
  
“Ramón” was all Carlos could manage before his lover’s hands grabbed his head with fierce lust, and, forcing open his mouth with darting tongue, Ramón embraced him.   
He held onto him like he was trying to save him from drowning. Save them both from drowning.  
  
The desperate, passionate kiss tore a moan from both men.  
  
Their foreheads touched. “I fucking love you, you asshole!”  
There. Ramón finally said it. Maybe fucking finally Carlos knowing would make a difference.  
  
Carlos nodded, sobbing, tearing at his clothes, fingers ripping open Ramón’s shirt with desperate tugs. Their quick exhales formed little clouds in the cold night air.  
  
“I… “ He couldn’t say it back. He did, he loved him, too, but he couldn’t motherfucking gather the breath to do so because right now all that mattered was being one with him. Meshing their bodies together in a carnal assault on their senses.  
  
Carlos trailed down the furrow between the muscles ridging his spine, while Ramón’s tongue slid along the crevice of his lips, his left already jerking down Carlos’ underwear.  
  
“I… “  
“Shh,” Ramón gasped, madly fumbling with his own belt. “I know, Carlitos. I know. It’s okay… I know, baby.”  
  
Hearing him like that, their mouths crushed together a second later… the smoldering gaze and the furious exploration of their bodies as the unbearable pressure between their thighs guided the rest…  
Carlos let himself go, pouring himself into his lover’s embrace, and finally… finally those two words found form in their utter and irrevocable abandon.  
“ _Te amo, Ramón.”_  
 _  
… I wish I knew how to quit you,_ _Ramón.  
… I wish I knew how to quit you, too, Carlos._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you loved it. This fic is so special to me.  
> Feel free to comment and kudo- and I thank you for reading this if you got here on the faith of my writing.  
> Bless!

**Author's Note:**

> The title and openings in each part are from the MCR song "Demolition Lovers" by My Chemical Romance and the story is based on the Argentinian film (2018) called "El Ángel." You can find it on American Amazon Prime for purchase or if you're in South America perhaps on one of the platforms there.  
> I of course borrowed the beautiful line from "Brokeback Mountain" which I saw again recently and I thought my god wasn't this appropriate, and it became Ramon's and Carlos' torment. "I wish I knew how to quit you." 
> 
> Dedicated to two people I absolutely adore who have put up with me talking about this film and how I wanted to write a fic for it for 2 years now... not to mention my *slight* crush on Chino Darin. I love you both very much and #itwillgetbetter


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